Sick 'Til Doomsday
by Hide-hime
Summary: Hit by a mysterious curse, Harry finds himself in a world that he had always longed to be part of. But when he ends up in the middle of a strange love-triangle, he begins to wonder if this really was what he wanted. Pre-slash.


Sick 'Til Doomsday  
Written by Hide  
Disclaimer:  
I don't own Harry Potter, any of the characters, etc. All are copyright to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. Secondly, this fic contains slash, and if you don't like slash, don't read the fic. More warnings will most likely be added in later chapters, but as for now, only these apply.  
  
Chapter 1  
Ordinary Life  
  
Tucking his broom under one arm, Harry hiked past the flat ground of the Quidditch Field towards the rougher terrain of the wilderness surrounding it. It was late afternoon and the sun was almost completely eclipsed by a distant hill, the sky around it aflame. The pitch was currently occupied by the Hufflepuff team and the young seeker sought a solitary practice that was made a bit more challenging by the low-hanging tree branches and craggy boulders dotting the area. All day, the new Gryffindor captain had taken to nitpicking his technique, his stance, even the state of his uniform and Harry needed to relax away from anything remotely related to team playing. Pausing, the young wizard surveyed his current location and settled onto his broom, kicked off and leisurely traced a path to the emerging stars.   
  
Harry took in a deep breath and released it when he could no longer hold it in, reveling in the euphoric experience of hovering twenty feet above the cold, trodden earth. He felt like he was soaring through an inferno, surrounded by the brilliant colors that the late sun had left in its wake. And the cool breeze traveling to meet him from the west was as welcome a companion as anyone could possibly hope for. Nothing could touch you when you were flying. Nothing.   
  
No one understood how he felt when he flew, not that they didn't say they did. Everyone was familiar with that tingling sensation of lifting, gaining height and zipping to and fro, and all of them thought they comprehended the thrilling rush he got every time he mounted his broom, but Harry knew in his heart of hearts he was the only one in the world who experienced it in this way. It wasn't freedom. It wasn't happiness. It was normality. It was being awake in the realest sense of the word. Flying was Harry's easy fix, a hit to his veins that made him remember what life was like at its most mediocre, its best. Flying was having parents, good grades and people who could just forget he was there.  
  
Drifting through the endless space of a sky that never cared, the boy noted every detail with a reserved detachment, a hazy eye that made everything clearer in a way by blocking out everything that didn't matter. The people, the buildings, even his own thoughts. But, unfortunately, he did notice that it was growing darker by the minute and he reluctantly admitted that he needed to hurry back to the dormitories. Landing amidst the long, amber grasses that covered the small knoll beneath him, Harry swiveled his head from side to side, scouting for the Quidditch Field and the way back to Hogwarts. But it was as if it had been plucked from the fields while the young wizard had been looking in the other direction. Well, that certainly was odd, wasn't it?  
  
"Lumos!" Harry shouted forcefully, raising his wand above his head so that the eerie green glow radiating from tip could shine out further.   
  
Still, the boy couldn't seem to find the unmistakable form of the looming castle. Feeling a bit of bile rise into his throat, Harry's skin began to ripple into goose bumps, fear causing the hair on the back of his neck to prick up. Be rational. If worse came to worse he could just sleep in the field and find his way back in the morn- Of course! The boy could've sworn aloud if he wasn't so afraid of someone hearing him. Extinguishing the light from his wand with a quick flick, Harry held his breath for a moment, working up his courage as well as trying to remember the mapping incantation. How did it go again? Graphius… Graphium… Graphinum… No, that couldn't be it.  
  
"Grapius Hogwarts!"   
  
A little disappointed, but not at all surprised, when nothing happened, Harry huddled down in the tall grass, hugging his legs to his chest. It was fine, everything was fine. He'd just summon a few blankets and camp here for the night, go back to Hogwarts the next day and tell Dumbledore what had happened. Professor Snape would probably seize the opportunity to verbally harass him, but at the moment, that didn't really worry the boy. What did worry him was that crunching noise coming towards him. Biting down on his lower lip, Harry tried to stay perfectly still, hoping that whatever it was couldn't see in the dark. He was far away from the Forbidden Forest, so he really didn't need to worry about werewolves or vampires, but that really wasn't saying much; there were plenty of other things that could rip him to pieces without raising a sweat. Harry made sure he had a firm grip on his wand and kept telling himself it was probably a raccoon or a rabbit. But… It did sound awfully big for a rabbit. And it was moving slowly, like it was creeping up on something, prey, most likely him.   
  
Of course, a bear or a wolf was no match for The Great Harry Potter, having fought off a Dark Lord (multiple times, no less) , an overly-angered teenage form of said Dark Lord and a very spiteful, very bitter Potions teacher (more times than he could count), so why would a bloodthirsty beast scare him? Somehow, his reasoning didn't seem completely justified. But in a few moments it didn't really matter because the little reason he had in the current situation melted away into pure panic.  
  
Twin flecks of fire stood out in the gloom, framed by slippery skin the color of a fish's belly, shining out at the terrified child. A grim hand flexed around the wand in its grasp, bones and sinews popping, stretching and reforming into a crooked claw. Harry couldn't help but stumble back a few feet on his hands and feet, aghast at the sudden appearance of You-Know-Who. This was it. He had been caught off-guard in a barren field by the Dark Lord hell-bent on maiming, torturing and killing him, and what was more, he couldn't think of a single spell, curse or charm to help him with.   
  
Shrill laughter bled into Harry's mind, turning his panic to dread. He had been cowering at the man's feet for over a minute and still, those snake-like eyes only stared down at him. Why wasn't he doing anything? Let it be quick, let him get it over with because Harry was afraid of what he might do if left in this horrible, frightening silence. But at long last, The Boy Who Lived saw Voldemort's wand rise up, over his head, and stop.  
  
"Morphium Infinitus."  
  
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Stirring in his bed, Harry flipped onto his stomach and glanced over at the small, old-fashioned clock on his bedside table. 9:47 already? He had missed breakfast again. Oh well, it couldn't dampen his spirits, at least not today. Today was the second day of Christmas Vacation and he got to go home! The train left in about two hours, so he would have to hurry up and get out of bed and pack. Glancing around the deserted dorm room, the boy sighed. Everyone else had left the night before but Harry had to wait until this morning because Godric's Hollow wasn't a very popular destination. After all, he only knew of one other person who was going to be on the train, and that was only because they were visiting his parents. A so-called family friend. Insofar as Harry could see, his mother didn't care for their visitor one little bit, but then again, Lily Potter didn't care for many people. Checking the time once more, Harry winced when he now noted that he only had an hour and a half to pack.  
  
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A single black eye regarded Harry with distaste, its twin obscured by a wave of tangled sable hair. Wiry hands clutched at his traveling bag with a white-knuckle grip, but, then again, with Snape one could never tell. Joy of joys, he got to spend a three-hour train ride with one of the people he had the most trouble making conversation with. He was sure they would have loads to talk about this time though, namely his last couple of tests, all of which Snape would probably recount over dinner and get him into a good, long lecture with his parents. Friend of the family's? Severus Snape was certainly no friend to Harry. It wasn't that he was mean to him, he was actually almost fair with him; Harry had seen how the Potion Master treated some Gryffindors, it was more like he was going out of his way to be indifferent to him. No one could be that neutral around a person. Maybe it was supposed to be a favor to his parents, Harry didn't know, and frankly he didn't want to know. He was perfectly alright not being on the receiving end of one of Snape's comments and he liked not getting publicly humiliated by his teacher but something about the man's motives struck him as… strange.  
  
"Ready, Potter?" Snape asked, his tone diplomatically monotonous once more.   
  
Inhaling again and mentally waving goodbye to human companionship for the next three hours, Harry nodded, a forced cheerfulness interjected into the movement. He might as well try to make the train ride pleasant, though he was sure Snape wouldn't return the favor.  
  
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END NOTE: The chapter's a little short, I know, but my first chapters in general are. I'm sorry if the plot is a little hazy, I'm trying to let it unfold gradually. If it's hopelessly confusing, please let me know in a review or email and I'll try not to be so vague. And, sadly enough, I've never written anything from Harry's perspective, so if he seems like a little shit in this chapter, it's only because I'm trying to get the hang of him. 


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